


the anatomy of love

by panpanya



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 15:03:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19976053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panpanya/pseuds/panpanya
Summary: Yuuri comes back after a tiring day, and Viktor makes him feel at home.





	the anatomy of love

**Author's Note:**

> sister fic of [for i love you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10820037)

Viktor is unsure of how this works, but Yuuri’s presence has always been extraordinarily warm. His existence brings a happy, rosy warmth that always constantly bathes any atmosphere. He isn’t like a fireplace, or the wind in summer, or whatever other generic analogy to metaphorize a completely mundane situation—he’s just Yuuri, he’s like himself, he _is_ himself.

The house without him feels bland. It’s empty. Viktor can feel it. Something is lacking, and it feels peculiarly unpleasant, as if invisible goosebumps are smothering his skin, and he feels it thoroughly, inside and out, how the world spins in the wrong direction without Yuuri.

_Ah._

It is nighttime. Viktor is working on the food in the kitchen. He is preparing dinner while waiting for Yuuri to come home. He smiles to himself. _Yuuri_. The thought of him blows the wind of sudden happiness into his mind. Yuuri is going to be home soon, and he can’t wait to see him. To welcome him back, kiss him, hold him and finally be together again with his most beloved.

It’s an ethereal, innocent emotion.

The doorbell rings as Viktor is in the throes of his thoughts. He grins, chest filled with a sudden inexplicable joy that wants to burst desperately. He runs to the door to open it, and there he is.

Yuuri is home.

His hair is slightly more ruffled than usual, and his eyes show exhaustion. The light in them, though, when he sees Viktor is restored and shines so brightly, sparkling under the dim lighting of the front porch and sending flying sparks to Viktor’s quivering heart.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” he says, then leans down to kiss him. Yuuri’s lips are like flames under his. They seem to ignite a kind of fire that words fail to say; something so passionate and sincere that Viktor can’t help but smile against the kiss. He pulls back.

He thinks his common sense must have dissolved when Yuuri reciprocates the smile. His mouth curves into a lovely beam, his head tilts a little to the side as if he’s admiring what Viktor just did. A welcome home kiss. Viktor doesn’t know what Yuuri believes, but it’s the best kind of kiss out there. Kissing someone, when driven by the delight of seeing them again, he supposes, is as sweet as the honeyed charm that glows in Yuuri’s eyes.

“Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes. In the meanwhile,” he walks towards the kitchen to take a kettle and a mug that Yuuri loves the most (a yellow, decorated ceramic mug with a cartooned picture of himself, Viktor and Makkachin; a birthday present for Yuuri’s last birthday), and pours some tea into it. “Enjoy yourself.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri answers. His lips glitter in shyness. “Do you need any help?”

“No, my dear prince, it’s fine. You deserve some rest,” Viktor replies.

Viktor continues his cooking in the kitchen. He can hear Yuuri sighing and plopping himself down on the couch, then he hears a slightly loud gasp. He peeks from the ajar kitchen door to see that Yuuri has spilled a few drops of the tea.

He grins to himself. Klutzy boy.

The bacon sizzles on the pan, giving out a hissing noise, like a fireplace crackling. Yuuri enjoys ‘breakfast food’. Eggs, bacons, pancakes, you name it. Viktor thinks it’s cute. His penchant is a unique trait.

Never mind that; he thinks that every part of Yuuri is unique. The way his body sways during his programs, the dust on his eyelashes under the suspension of light; he’s beautiful, magnificent, as comely as a butterfly.

Viktor puts the eating utensils on the dining table and walks over to the couch, where Yuuri is sitting. The mug of tea is now on the coffee table, and Makkachin is lying on Yuuri’s lap while wiggling its tail. Viktor likes this. The ambience is slow; the tranquility makes it all the better, and Yuuri makes it all the best.

He kisses Yuuri on the temple—just a chaste kiss to wake him up. Instantly, Yuuri opens his eyes and looks at him.

“It’s all set,” Viktor says. “Are you sleepy?”

“Mmh, not really,” Yuuri gets up from where he sits. Viktor only nods, then arranges the table again. “You seem to be preparing a somehow glorious dinner today.”

“Doesn’t it seem so?” Viktor laughs. “Complaining?”

“Of course not. Why would I complain?”

“Well, you’re unpredictable, that’s for one,” he replies as he puts the final bowl down.

“I’m really glad, you know,” Viktor’s breath hitches when Yuuri mentions so. “To come back to an unexpected treat. Oh, wow, sweets.”

“Yeah, I’m really fond of making them these days,” Viktor shrugs. Animal-shaped cookies and flower-shaped jellies have become his favorite things to make. He knows that Yuuri likes them too.

“They’re cute,” Yuuri eats one of them and mumbles, “and delicious.”

“You’re eager. Save that for later, won’t you?”

“Sure enough.”

They don’t engage in much conversation during the meal, except for some small talks and probably a few unfunny jokes. Once they are done, Viktor grabs all the dirty utensils and dumps them into the washer.

“Let me give you a hand this time,” Yuuri says. Viktor can’t say no to his sincerity.

“Okay. You wash, I’ll dry.”

“All right. You should stop spoiling me too much.”

“Hey, look who’s talking.”

Viktor talks about something, simply to make the mood less bland, but having Yuuri next to him already colors the situation into rainbows and pops a confetti in his chest.

“This is all,” Yuuri wipes the last plate with a cloth and puts it on the shelf. “I’m taking a shower. You?”

“I’ve taken one. Suit yourself.”

Viktor prepares himself, then waits until Yuuri finishes. To spend the time, he reads a boring book for distraction. He can’t seem to get his mind off the time when he and Yuuri first rendezvoused, it was a memorable night. He closes his eyes and tries to see the banquet hall where it all happened. Yuuri has always been magical.

_Be my coach, Viktor!_

The bathroom door opens and closes and Viktor knows that Yuuri is done. “I was waiting for you.”

“How’d you know what I was going to say?”

Viktor speaks the truth, “Yuuri, we’ve been together for so long. There are some things about you that I can’t predict, but you’re easy to read most of the time, you see.”

Yuuri answers with a honeyed smile. Viktor adjusts himself so that Yuuri can sit next to him, and he hugs him.

_Warm._

“Yuuri.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m so grateful that this is my life now,”

“You’re too damned sappy.”

Yuuri punctuates his sentence by a kiss. It’s a patient press of lips on lips, syncing together in perfect harmony, and Viktor loses his mind. Kissing doesn’t sound so intimate. There’s so much more than that. It’s just a kiss. Merely a small gesture of love, a sign of affection; but God, Viktor doesn’t know how to think anymore. Yuuri is soft, gentle and careful. It feels like the first time over again.

“Why, though?” Yuuri asks. “Why are you grateful?”

“Why indeed,” Viktor chuckles sotto voce. “Because I have you now.”

“And that means?”

“I have everything.”

“…”

_Yuuri, you are my home._

“I’ve got the world in my hands,” he holds Yuuri’s cheeks. They are reddening, heating under his palms. He finds it charming, so he declares it, “I really love it when you blush. It’s a pretty shade of red. Like, that – what do you call it –“

“I can’t believe you’re stuttering when you’re trying to hit on me.”

“Th—that’s! Ah! Spider lilies!”

“Viktor, this is the twentieth time you mention spider lilies ever since the beginning of our relationship. It’s way too overused. Use something else.”

“I don’t know, red paint?”

Yuuri stares at Viktor. “You’re no match to be a romantic.”

“How mean!”

They kiss again. How can it be possible, to compare Yuuri’s kiss to anything at all? It’s like something that comes from a fairytale. It’s the real life equivalent of a true love’s kiss. When Yuuri nibbles on Viktor’s bottom lip lightly, Viktor hums in appreciation. It is the spell that wraps around Yuuri that Viktor can’t comprehend. He bewitches him, binding him with a mantra that makes him fall so hard in love.

“Hey.”

“Mm.”

“I love you.”

“Mm,” he yawns. “I love you too.”

They lie down, hands entwined and hearts mingling.

_Yuuri is home._


End file.
